#Borderline Negation

[pienhime]

autistic people are expected to just... stop having symptoms For The Greater Good™️ all the time and get treated like bigots and warmongers if they dont magically stop being disabled to further a cause. some autistic people can do some things, some people cant do those so they do other things to help instead. but its considered "good" and "morally correct" in leftist circles online to harass MENTALLY DISABLED PEOPLE for not simply no longer dealing with what comes along w their disability when it damages others. sorry, not sorry but ill do everything that i can to support causes i care about, and the operative part of that statement is "THAT I CAN". other autistic ppl can do without their safe foods? great, i cant. other autistic people are good at taking social queues and understanding how to discuss sensitive topics? cool, most of us cant. weve become so "uwu are u also neurodivergent uwu?? heres my hyperfixationstimmingspecialinterestoverstimulationcore pronoun set!! self diagnosis from tiktok is valid" that weve forgotten autism is a serious mental disability that prevents most of us from working and lots of us from ever living on our own. get ur head out of ur ass and eat a bag of razor blades if you think disabled people owe you death and suffering. we are doing what we can.

[femmeicde]

"you're scared to lose everyone but who's scared to lose you?" my brother in Christ, I have BPD, why would I want someone to be gut-wrenchingly anxious about abandonment?

[ujunxverse]

to whoever says "omg your 20s are the best years of your life" stfu because this generation sucks in the worst way possible. yeah i do get downtime but imagine having to work full time to pay all my bills and taxes, have to micromanage everything in my life (rent...), not be a homeowner because i'd have to sell several organs to get a mortgage, can't even fathom buying a car because the insurance sounds awful, have existential breakdowns every day about what i really wanna do in life, think about how scary the future is with all the things that are happening domestically and internationally, and even hanging out with friends has to be done smartly where we think about the price before enjoying a meal or going out and genuinely having fun. 20s are the best part my ass i just wanna get this montage of self-discovery and flop era over and gain stability so i can be the rich aunt in every chick flick buying the mean girls their birkins and drinking 2-for-1 margaritas by the seaside.

[tkwrites]

Worth the Wait - Quinn Hughes x ofc

photos from pinterest

Title: Worth the Wait

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Swearing, grief, mentions of a dead mother. Mostly, it’s fluff.

Summary: It takes more than a week, but Quinn and Sarah finally go on their second date.  

Word count: 5,500

Comments: This one is a little long, but I felt like all the parts were needed to flesh out the characters the way I wanted. I hope you enjoy! 

Part 2 is being planned as we speak!

Worth the Wait

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Hey Sarah, I just wanted to let you know we’re headed out on the road, so I’ll be out of town for the next week. 

Quinn sent this message before boarding the plane. He’d never done something like this before - tell someone he was interested in that he wouldn’t be home. He didn’t want Sarah to think he was ignoring her, or putting off their next date. 

Can I see you when you get back? 

Definitely, he sent, a giddy, effervescent feeling in his stomach.

The following evening, for the first time in her life, Sarah sat down to watch a hockey game. 

Eunice was in their living room, anxiously awaiting the start of the game. Currently watching people talk about betting odds in her Canucks t-shirt, a stuffed orca on the cushion next to her. 

Sarah had lived with Eunice for a little over a year. They were friends in the way two people coming together for convenience could be friends. She was nice and sweet, and made the best mac & cheese Sarah had ever eaten. She was also dramatic and had a borderline obsessive love for many things, including the Canucks. Sarah had never paid much attention to that particular obsession, as it didn’t cross over into her life, until now. 

“You okay?” Eunice asked when Sarah sat down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You never watch hockey with me, I thought maybe you were sad or something.” 

“Oh, no, my project is done, so I’m free for the night and thought I’d join.” 

Eunice squealed and threw her arms around Sarah, “I’m so excited to introduce you to the best sport in the world!”

Feeling instantly overwhelmed, Sarah put on a brave face, and watched as the national anthem began to play. The camera scanned over the players, 5 stood separate from the others in a line, and her heart jumped into her throat when Quinn’s face came across the screen. He looked impassively at the camera. He seemed so different than when they had met, determined and competitive, not so quiet and interested. It was strange to reconcile the two as the same person. 

“What does the C mean?” 

“It means he’s the captain. That’s Quinn Hughes. He’s like, the best defenseman in the league.” 

"Isn't he a little small to play defense?" Sarah asked, surprised. 

Eunice looked personally affronted. "Hughes is an amazing skater, which is the most important thing in being a good defenseman. Defense in Hockey is more tactical than super physical." 

When the game finally began, Sarah was instantly overwhelmed. They moved so quickly, and it was damn near impossible for her to keep track of the puck. There were terms being thrown around by the commentators that were so niche, she didn’t even know where to begin figuring them out.

“What’s icing?” she asked when there was a commercial break. 

“So, it’s when a team shoots the puck to the other end of the rink, but no one is there to receive it.” 

She knew that wasn’t quite right. There were plenty of times before the break when that very thing happened, but no icing was called, and couldn’t the goalie receive it and negate that altogether? 

“And there’s no out of bounds?” 

“Nope. Just the rink. You can get penalized for shooting the puck over the glass though.” 

The game continued, and after a scuffle, Quinn skated off to sit by himself. 

“Why is he there?” 

“He got a penalty. High sticking,” Eunice said without any additional explanation. 

The announcers replayed the offense in slower motion, showing how in the midst of a play, Quinn had accidentally hit another player in the jaw with his stick. 

“That doesn’t seem like it should be a penalty when it was an accident,” Sarah said. The other guy wasn’t even bleeding.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s part of the game. Keep control of your stick all the time.” 

The camera moved back to Quinn in the little cell. He removed his helmet and rubbed a towel over his face and hair before replacing it.

Eunice sighed dramatically, “God, he’s so hot.” 

Sarah had to agree. He did look hot - supremely so. Flushed and sweaty, it was difficult to keep her mind off imagining him in her bed like that.

“Wait, why is it 4 against 5?” Sarah asked as the game began again. 

“Cause Hughes got a penalty,” Eunice said, as if this was all the explanation Sarah should need. 

Sarah stopped asking questions. Every time Eunice had tried to explain something in the past, she would get so excited, she would leave out key points, or assume Sarah had background knowledge she didn’t, and Sarah would end up even more confused. She often had to look up whatever they were talking about after their conversation anyway. 

The period ended, and Eunice left the living room. 

Sarah continued reading the article about the basics of hockey she had pulled up on her phone at the last commercial break. She wished she could watch with someone who would patiently explain each rule as it passed in the game. She had learned Football from her dad that way. Maybe Quinn could explain it to her. 

“Okay, so what’s really up?” Eunice asked when she returned, plopping back down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bag of caramels.  

“What do you mean?” 

Holding up one finger, she said, “you’re watching hockey with me,” she held up a second, “you’re trying to understand it,” a third finger went up, “and you’re, like, actually interested in sports?” 

“I’m interested in sports,” Sarah defended. “We’re a football family. My uncle coached.” 

“Whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively, “it’s a dumb American sport anyway.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes, but didn’t take the bait. 

“All I’m saying is that we’ve lived together for over a year, and you have never, not once, expressed any kind of interest in Hockey and I want to know what changed.”

The commercials ended and the camera cut to someone interviewing Quinn, who was in his full kit sans helmet. He answered questions in the same quiet, methodical way he had answered her on their date. Only this time, he said a lot of words without actually saying much of anything. 

Sarah chewed on her lip. 

“Did you finally discover how hot hockey players are?” Eunice teased.

“I don’t -” Sarah cut off, pushing a breath out her nose in frustration. 

She was about to tell Eunice that hot guys were not the only reason she watched sports, only to realize that that’s precisely what she was doing. 

“I met him,” she finally admitted. 

“You met who?” 

“Quinn,” Sarah said, gesturing to the TV. 

“Met? You MET Quinn Hughes?” Eunice asked, turning in slow motion to look at Sarah. “When?!” 

Sarah started, “on Monday.”

“Where? What? How?” Eunice demanded, her voice getting progressively louder with each word. 

“He came into the aquarium, asked some questions after one of my talks, and then asked if I wanted to get lunch.” 

“He asked you to lunch?” Eunice repeated. 

“Yeah, we went to get bao.” 

“Like on a date?” 

“I think so. I mean, he paid, and he got my phone number aft-”

“Quinn Hughes asked you for your phone number,” Eunice thundered, “and you didn’t think to tell me about it?” 

It probably wasn’t the right time for Sarah to point out that she and Eunice really didn’t have that kind of a relationship. In fact, Sarah hadn’t told anyone but Beth, her best friend from back home, who had been thrilled Sarah had finally met a good guy.

“Sorry,” Eunice said, settling on the couch like a proper lady in a period drama, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out.” 

Sarah wasn’t sure how she should react. She hadn’t intended on telling Eunice at all, worried - justly, it turned out - that she would freak.  

“But oh my fucking God,” Eunice yelled, throwing her hands up and breaking her posture to flop dramatically into a slouch. 

“What’s going on?” Jane asked, leaning in the door frame, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Quinn Hughes asked Sarah for her phone number,” Eunice declared, gesturing to Sarah as if she were the reason Jane was up early before her graveyard shift, not her own yelling. 

Jane perked awake, “really?” 

“Yeah,” Eunice said, sounding like a petulant teenager.  

“Oh my God. I didn’t think this was a big deal,” Sarah said, putting her head in her hands. 

“That the most eligible bachelor in the whole city of Vancouver asked you for your number? I’d say that’s a pretty big fuckin deal.” 

“He’s just a guy, Eunice.”

“I’d beg to differ," Jane cut in. “It is a pretty big deal.” 

“So he’s not a guy?”

Both women rolled their eyes at her. 

“Of course he’s a guy,” Eunice said, exasperated. 

“But he’s not ‘just’ a guy,” Jane said, air quotes and all. “He’s a little more than that, I think.” 

“Why? Because he’s a professional athlete?” 

“Yeah. And millions of women across the world want to marry him.”

“He’s handsome and all, but I can’t believe that’s true,” Sarah said. “Do millions of women even watch hockey?” 

At the fierce glares she received from both of her Canadian roommates, Sarah held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. Maybe millions of women watch hockey, and some of them find him attractive. But for my purposes, he’s just a guy. He was just a guy on our date.” 

“It's not about you,” Jane said. 

Sarah raised her eyebrows in a challenge. 

“What we mean is that it’s a big freaking deal that Quinn asked for your number.” 

She reeled back, “Is it so hard to believe that he would be attracted to me?” 

“No!” they both shouted, Eunice exasperated while Jane was horrified. 

“Of course he’s attracted to you. Look at you.”

“I think what Eunice means is that Quinn Hughes has celebrity status in this city, and so him asking for your number means that he saw something really special in you. Women throw themselves at him every day.” 

Sarah wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“It’s like, a major, major compliment,” Eunice said. 

Biting her tongue, Sarah resisted the urge to tell her that it was a major compliment if anyone asked for her number, celebrity status or not. 

“So, are you going out again?” Eunice asked, sitting back down on the couch. 

“I mean, we said we would, but he’s out of town until next week, so I guess we will when he gets back?” 

“Oh man,” Eunice said, leaning back in her seat. “You are living such a fanfiction right now.” 

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes. 

Jane yawned. “I’m going back to bed. I have to be at the hospital at 2 in the morning.” 

“I’m sorry we woke you up,” Sarah said. 

Shaking her head, Jane smiled. “I’m glad Quinn saw the same things the rest of us do. If anyone deserves a fanfiction love story, it’s you.”

Heat raced into her cheeks, and Sarah smiled, turning back to the TV as the game began again. 

“I cannot believe this,” Eunice said, picking up the stuffed whale to clutch in her hands. “You’ve got to introduce me to Kuzmenko.” 

“Who?” 

A few nights later, Quinn was slipping into a dinner booth in St. Louis when his phone pinged with a message. 

Hey, I don't know what your schedule is next week, but The Electric is showing the Star Wars movies starting Sunday if you want to catch one together?

His heart jumped into his throat so fast, he made a sort of gasping choking nose that had Elias clapping him on the back. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, clearing his throat. 

“Who is that from?” Petey asked quietly. 

Quinn was suddenly overwhelmingly thankful that he wasn’t sitting next to anyone else, who surely would have made a big scene of announcing that he got a text about a date to everyone in the near vicinity. Petey knew he preferred his privacy, and always respected that. 

“Remember that girl I was telling you about last week? The one from the aquarium?” 

His eyebrows shot up, “that’s her?” he asked, nodding at the phone.

Quinn nodded. 

As Elias watched, Quinn pulled up their practice and game schedules. 

Sounds awesome. I’m back in town Wednesday and free on Thursday or Saturday nights. 

Almost immediately, the icon of her typing appeared. His heart began to hammer a little harder, pulsing in his throat in that nervous, I-can’t-wait-to-talk-to-her way he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Thursday is The Empire Strikes Back, so I’m guessing that’s our choice. Unless you’d rather see the Force Awakens on Saturday?

Thursday is great.

Cool. I’ll get us tickets. Showtime is at 7 and they have a special menu for dinner and drinks at 6. 

Sounds great.

It was as simple as that. Quinn had never had a date planned so smoothly. 

Her text bubble popped up again, before going away. He gulped some of his nervousness down. 

When he clicked off the screen and looked at Elias, he found the other man smiling at him knowingly. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t think she existed.” 

“Sarah? You thought I was making her up?” 

Petey rolled his eyes, “No. I didn’t think the girl you always talk about wanting to date existed. But she’s right there,” he gestured to Quinn’s phone. 

Feeling his cheeks flush, Quinn shrugged to deflect the wave of sincere agreement that washed over him by busing himself with the menu. 

Leaving her last class, Sarah was beyond thankful to leave campus and go home. She was exhausted to the bone. It had been a hard week of studying and midterms. On top of that, nervous, excited energy was buzzing under her skin in anticipation of her date with Quinn that evening. 

When she got home and finally pulled her phone from her bag, she found a missed call from him. Stomach dropping, worry billowed into her thoughts like smoke. He was probably calling to say he couldn’t come. Why else would he call when they’d only texted so far?

 Rapid fire, her thoughts rifled through friends that might want to come to the movie before she snapped back to herself. This was her anxiety talking. It wasn’t the truth.

Taking the time to pull in a few deep breaths, she told herself he could be calling about something other than canceling. It took eight breaths before she felt calm enough to call him back.

The phone rang three times before he answered. “Hey.”

“Hi, sorry I missed you earlier, I was in my last midterm.” 

 “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing. That was one thing he didn’t miss about college. There wasn’t a lot, but the pressure of midterms and finals were something he was happy to live the rest of his life without. 

“Well, it’s done now, so I’m just excited to take a nap.” 

He laughed. 

“So what’s up?” she asked, trying, and failing, to not sound nervous. 

“I wondered where I should pick you up tonight,” he said. 

Relief sighed through her legs and she sunk onto the bed. “I was planning to meet you there.” 

“I can come pick you up,” he offered. There was no need for her to take the train when he could drive them. 

This was always an awkward conversation, but one she’d constructed with her therapist to ease her anxiety. If someone didn’t respect this, it was a sure sign she didn’t want to date them. “Quinn, you seem like a great guy, but I don’t want you to pick me up. I don’t know you very well.” 

A long pause passed over the phone. She wondered if she was going to have to explain this concept to him. 

Honestly, Quinn hadn’t heard that line in a long time. He knew from friends that women often did this to protect themselves, but something about his presence in the media made women trust him implicitly. He hadn’t taken advantage of that - he would never - but it had infiltrated his thoughts before, how easy it would be. 

She stood up for herself, and kept herself safe, and he respected her for that. “That makes sense,” he said.

It was so much easier than she’d been expecting, that Sarah had a hard time coming up with words.

“So I’ll meet you there?” he said when she didn’t say anything. 

“Great.”

“What time?” 

“Dinner starts at 6, so I figured like 6:15?” 

“Great. I’ll meet you out front?” 

“Sounds great.” 

They said some pleasant goodbyes and she flopped back on the bed. Karma was really seeing this one though. Nice, interested, a bit nerdy, and respectful, not to mention handsome, Sarah had hardly allowed herself to dream up a guy like Quinn. And now, here he was, suddenly in her life. A feeling like she’d just drunk champagne began to fizz in her stomach. A smile spread over her face as she hugged her pillow and set an alarm.  

Walking up to the theater, Quinn wiped his hands on his jeans, hoping he wasn’t about to revert back into a teenage boy with sweaty palms. He had to pee again. Nerves always shrunk his bladder. It hadn't happened in a game since he was ten, but other places - getting on a stage, press conferences, dates - always made him nervous. 

The theater was an old fashioned, stand alone cement building. A ticket booth complete with marquee lights sat between two sets of French doors. Sarah was already there, leaning against the wall, looking up at the building across the street. It surprised him she wasn't on her phone.

“Hey,” he said as he got closer. 

“Hi,” she said, meeting his eyes with a smile that made his stomach ache. Her lips were darker, making them stand out a little more. His eyes were drawn to them like a magnet. 

She slipped her arms around his neck for a hug. It felt so natural this time as he pulled her into his chest. 

As she broke away, she asked, “ready?”

He nodded, and she walked over to the ticket window, “I have a reservation for two under Roberts.”

The teenager working looked up from his phone. His gaze drifted past her. “You’re Quinn Hughes,” he said, mouth falling open.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder. 

“Hey, what’s up man?” Quinn said as if someone hadn’t just told him who he was. 

The employee - who couldn’t have been more than sixteen - was still staring at Quinn, even when he didn’t say anything else. 

“You’re coming to the show tonight?” he finally asked. 

Sarah had never felt so looked over in her life. It wasn’t that she was jealous. She would never want that kind of attention, but there was common decency not being met here. 

“We’re trying to,” she said, not unkindly, nudging him back to her reservation. 

The boy started. He blinked a few times before he said, “sorry, what was the name?” 

“Sarah Roberts.”

As they walked into the foyer. The ticket clerk slipped out of the booth, and came up to them, “hey man, I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I get an autograph? My girlfriend is a huge fan.” 

Quinn nodded, and reached for the paper and pen he held out. 

“Thanks so much, enjoy your show!” 

As soon as they turned around, a harried looking woman with flyaway strawberry blonde hair came rushing up to them. “Mr. Hughes, we’re so glad you can be with us tonight.” Apparently, Mr. “you’re Quinn Hughes” had spread the news. 

He gave her a polite smile. 

“I just wanted to let you know, we upgraded your reservations to one of our more private love seats in the back.”

“That’s very nice, but it’s not necessary,” he said, feeling embarrassed. Sarah was never going to go out with him again if their first date was under this much of a microscope. 

“Oh, no,” she said with a strained smile, “I insist.” 

Sarah looked up at him, wondering what was going to happen here. 

“Well, thank you,” he said, knowing that arguing would only draw more attention. So far, the other patrons were ignoring them, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

“Let me show you to your new seats.” She led them to a plush couch tucked into the back of the theater. No neighbors and a perfect view of the screen. No one would even need to walk in front of them to get to the bar or the bathroom. 

“Thanks so much,” Sarah said. 

The woman walked away, and she turned to Quinn with wide eyes, “that was wild.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, his hand going to the back of his neck. 

“Does that happen a lot?”

He shrugged, “sometimes. Most people are pretty cool, though.” 

“I actually thought about reserving this, but it was like triple the price, and I’m on a grad school budget, so…” she trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she clasped her hands together.

“The seats we had before would have been great,” he said, “people make a fuss.” He knew this woman was probably hoping he would share the theater on his social media, but finding a place like this was hard enough. He didn’t want to ruin that by announcing it to the world. 

Desperate to change the subject, he said, “Thanks for finding this. I didn’t know it was even here.” 

“I didn’t either,” Sarah admitted, deciding they may as well enjoy the upgrade and sat down on the sofa. It was plush microfiber - incredibly soft to the touch - and very comfortable. It wasn’t like she was going to demand they go back to the standard seats she’d booked.

“How did you find it, then?” he asked, sitting next to her. 

“I overheard someone talking about it on the train and looked it up. It looked cool, so here we are.” 

He smiled at her, and her heart did a karate kick into her lungs. She sucked in a deep breath. 

They made their way to the bar to order dinner and drinks. Everything was on theme, including Sarah’s cocktail that came out glowing bright blue with smoke billowing off the surface. She laughed, looking truly delighted with it. It made Quinn want to kiss her. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about that since they’d met, but something about the pure joy in her face when the bartender handed it over made the impulse even stronger. 

The problem, she soon discovered, with the couch arrangement was the fact that their food and drinks ended up on the end tables - on opposite sides of the couch, making it nearly impossible to eat and have a conversation the way she wanted to. 

After turning around for her drink for the third time, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Here, will you hold this?” she asked, handing him her glass. 

Quinn accepted it and watched as she put her plate on the table, and moved it in front of the couch. She then tucked herself around it, and sat facing him, with one of her legs bent at the knee between them. 

“At least for now,” she said, taking her drink back and setting it on the relocated table. 

Quinn smiled. He never would have moved that table - too afraid to upset someone. He admired Sarah’s willingness to solve the issue at hand. 

Her drink was still smoking when he set his beer bottle next to it. She'd let out the most adorable giggle with the first sip, scrunching her nose at the feel of the smoke. 

“So, what made you choose Vancouver?” he asked, “I’m sure there are places in the States where you can study Marine Zoology.” 

She was instantly impressed that he remembered her degree. Most people got the marine part right, but assumed she was a biologist.  

“That’s kind of a long, complicated story, but basically, my mom died a year and a half years ago and -” 

He cut in, “I’m sorry, Sarah.” 

“Thank you,” she gave him a sad smile. 

“Anyway, there’s a little more to it, but I ended up here because my uncle lives here. I wanted to study the ocean, but I had to be close to family, and the only family I had close to the ocean was here, so that kind of made my decision for me.”

Bracing herself for sympathy, she looked into his eyes, only to find a more open, understanding expression on his handsome face. “That sucks about your mom. My dad lost his mom when I was like two, and he still talks about how hard it was. I know it was really devastating for him. I can't imagine how it felt for you." 

She was so young - too young. She’d been his age. Even considering how long he'd been living away from his parents, it would be awful to lose his mom. She was the person he called for almost everything.

Tears pricked at her lower lashes. She blinked them away, busying herself with her drink to shut down that topic of conversation. 

He laughed when her nose scrunched up again. 

“I promise it’s really good,” she said, giggling, “the smoke just tickles.” 

“Sure,” he teased, then added, "it's actually really cute."

Her gaze caught on the amused set of his mouth, and lingered there for a beat too long. Tearing her eyes away, she asked, “what about you? Why Vancouver?” 

“Well, I was drafted here,” he said after swallowing his bite of salad. 

“So you didn’t have a choice?” 

“Yes and no. I toured and interviewed with a lot of clubs, and I liked it here along with a few other places. They knew how I felt, so they knew it would probably be a good fit. But the draft is always kind of a gamble. My brothers both went to New Jersey, which is pretty unheard of.” 

“Your brothers play hockey too?” 

He nodded. 

“How many of you are there?” 

“Just the three of us,” he said, “and a whole mess of cousins. What about you?” 

“I have an older sister and an older brother. They still live in Nevada, and they both have a bunch of kids. My brother married my sister's best friend, so they’re all really, really close.” 

She said it with a kind of sadness that Quinn knew well: a specific feeling that stemmed from your siblings being together while you were apart. Even though everyone was doing good things, it was still lonely to be the odd man out. 

“I get that,” he said. “My brothers live together in Jersey, and my grandad’s there too, so I feel pretty separate sometimes.”

It was strange to Sarah how much they had in common. Both from families of three siblings, both in Vancouver because of a mix of circumstance and choice, both understood familial loss to at least some extent. She had never met a man like him. 

The bartender announced the movie would start in 5 minutes. 

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said. “Do you need anything on my way back?”

He shook his head. 

When she came back to their little corner of the theater, she found a refreshed drink on the end table. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Of course.” 

The movie started and it was instantly calming to her. Being there with Quinn felt like a special treat, like something out of a daydream.

When she lay her hand, palm up, in the small bit of love seat between them, Quinn was quick to pick it up, entwining their fingers. It felt a bit like he was fourteen again, just excited to hold a girl’s hand. He wanted to touch her all the time, but knew they weren’t there yet. He couldn’t wait to get to the point in the relationship when he could rest his hand on her thigh, or put an arm around her shoulders without it being a big deal. It felt so close, he could almost taste it. 

Leaning progressively closer throughout the movie, Quinn finally put his arm around her. He had to stop himself from celebrating when she rested her head on his shoulder. 

When the movie started winding down, Quinn began to wonder how exactly the end of the night was going to go. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he didn’t want to do that in the theater or the foyer, where prying eyes and cell phone cameras were in abundance. Maybe he could ask her if they could walk to his car so he could kiss her there? Or maybe he could take her to her building's parking garage? Every way he thought about asking her sounded fucking creepy.

He was still caught in that internal debate when the movie ended and the house lights went up. How was he going to do this? He could just come out and tell her, but it made him sound paranoid and more than a little full of himself. 

“Could you walk me to the train station?” she asked, effectively ending his internal argument. 

He bit back the suggestion that he could just drive her home. “Yeah. Sure, of course,” he said. Maybe there would be a dim corner he could tuck them into and kiss her. 

The night air was cool, and humid when they stepped outside. Heart pounding, Sarah hoped he couldn’t feel it through their clasped hands. 

“You’ll have to lead the way,” he said. “I don’t really take the train.”

“No?” 

“Too many people.” 

While holding his hand was nice, Sarah’s mouth had felt empty with yearning all night. A deep longing to kiss him had been purring in her chest for over a week now, and seeing him made it rumble even louder. From the way she caught him glancing at her mouth throughout the night, it seemed like he felt the same way. 

There was a small, clean alleyway she’d spotted on her walk to the theater. As they passed it, she tugged him off the sidewalk, turned around so she could slide one hand over the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

Quinn sucked in a sort of shocked breath at her forwardness. 

She pulled away just as he was registering what was happening and sinking into the kiss. 

Taking her hands back, a blush searing her cheeks, she said, “I’m sorry, that was really presumptuous of me.” Hoping she hadn't just ruined everything, She tried to not feel rejected. Had she been reading the signs wrong? 

“No,” Quinn said, his voice a little too loud. 

It was so strange to him that their physical connection, which had always been the easiest part of his past relationships, seemed to be the only thing they fumbled over. 

He cleared his throat, and slipped his hand up to cup her jaw, "no. I was just a little surprised.” 

Seeing the longing in his face when she looked into his eyes kicked hers back into gear, ready to squeal off the pavement. 

Leaning in closer, his breath caressed her lips as he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this all week.” 

A shiver raced down her spine at his confession. “Me too." 

Pulling back just slightly, he looked into her face. It felt like he was standing at the edge of the most beautiful view he'd ever seen. He couldn't wait to jump over it. 

She tipped up, and he leaned down, and when their lips met, a gentle sigh passed between them. 

There was no awkwardness, no questioning of who would tip which way, or if it was too soon for tongue. No, Sarah just took advantage between kisses, and swept her tongue into his open mouth. He responded in kind, sliding his tongue along hers. 

Her hands found their way into his hair in an attempt to pull him closer. The soft noise he gasped into her mouth made her fingertips tingle with a heady sense of satisfaction. Molten desire dripped into her veins.

Quinn let all his other thoughts fall away in favor of savoring this moment. He wanted to commit every second of it to memory. She tasted like the tart syrup used in her cocktail, and the smooth sweetness of the rum. Coupled with the vanilla, woodsy scent of her perfume, and her soft, skilled tongue, it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever experienced. He never wanted to stop. 

The world fell away. 

Then, it came crashing back. 

"Get a room!" someone yelled from the group of teenagers walking by. 

He pulled away, just enough that he could feel her panting breaths rushing over his lips. He didn't want to let the moment slip away. Not when it had been so perfect. 

"Can I make you dinner on Saturday?" he asked, still feeling a little breathless.

She paused, and he realized what he'd just implied. God, he wasn't thinking straight. 

Pulling back, he rushed to explain, "I can bring it with me to a park or something. I just want to see you again." 

A smile broke over her face, "I want to see you again, too." 

Simple, straight to the point. Quinn felt some of his anxiety drop away. 

"I'll think about where, but definitely yes to dinner." 

He beamed. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[starlooove]

Why are y’all surprised that borderline capitalists and liberals like Hobie when they hate leftists, especially black leftists, irl 💀

Real people saying these things make them think and feel guilty, when a real person says we cannot thrive or make significant change by utilizing systems stacked against said change, they have to think about their own lifestyles and ideals. When a real person says violence is the answer and money needs to become meaningless, all they think is “but I could get hurt or in trouble” and “but I’ll never be rich”.

When Hobie says it it’s just a character being entertaining. There’s a bit of truth but you don’t take it seriously because you don’t have to. It’s the same way they’re fine with saying ACAB posts and reading books on anti-racism but can’t muster up the courage to tell their friend to stop saying the n word. It’s all cute till it’s you irl, so ppl who know leftists irl and don’t like them will love hobie. It feels like KNOWING Hobie maybe kinda sorta has a point is enough to negate the idea that their complicity in these systems irl is actually harmful.

It’s like that thing where ppl do bad things and think knowing it’s bad is the same as being apologetic and changing or deserving forgiveness.

Like in conclusion, it’s easy to like Hobie when you’re not face to face with someone like him and you’re not expected to do any work. It’s the same thing as yt ppl liking the Medea movies. God forbid a black person is actually loud in public but it’s fine when they’re doing their little jigs just for you.

[maybeimamuppet]

Do you believe Regina is redeemable?

ohhhhh buddy the whole can of worms this opened

to make a long story short: yes.

to make a long story longer with a tw for mentioned child abuse/neglect and suicidal ideation

i think every iteration of her deserves a shot at redemption.

canonically regina is at most seventeen years old. yes, she’s almost an adult. yes, she does and has done despicable things at this age and even younger. but she is still young. she is still a child. to completely, black and white say, that she is at her core an unredeemable monster who doesn’t even deserve to try does a complete and utter disservice both to her and the people she’s hurt in her past. to say she will be the way she is forever negates all the suffering she goes through and puts others through in canon, misguided though it is.

regina is also basically the textbook for a personality disorder and specifically bpd. borderline is (in a lot of cases i’ll say rightfully) very harshly judged. there’s a lot of stigma around it and cluster b disorders as a whole. but bpd is also caused for the most part by neglect and abuse in childhood. we only ever see regina’s dad in 2004 canon, for a single scene, crying over regina wearing the rabbit halloween costume. he’s completely absent in both the stage show and 2024. and looking at her mom, it is very obvious something has happened to the both of them and that this child (or neither of these children if you include kylie from 2004) is/are not getting the emotional guidance, support, and attention they need. who knows what happened before canon as well. who knows what her dad was like.

speaking as someone who also probably has bpd (which i discovered through doing research to write her better) i can say it is a terrifying experience. i’m lucky in that i’m able to resist my compulsions most of the time, but having them at all is beyond terrifying sometimes. i am filled with rage on a hair trigger these days. sometimes i’m able to process this anger in a healthy way. i can rationalize. i can think through it. i can calm myself down.

other times i can’t. i can only glance through the mean girls tag on ao3 now because if i look at numbers or think for too long about it, i compare the new fics that have come with the 2024 movie to things i’ve written. to see these fics that, while fantastic, are much shorter or don’t have as much effort put into them as what i do get literally ten times the love does hurt, as much as i adore and appreciate what i do get.

by nature with my other illnesses i have to pour my entire heart and soul, blood sweat and tears into every word i put on a page. every fic i’ve done is a piece of me that sometimes feels like i’ve torn it out of myself and given you to read. sometimes seeing that get 150 hits compared to a cadina fic that’s half as long (but again, still amazing! they all deserve every hit and kudos and comment and whatever) getting up to 1, 10, 50k hits just latches to a particularly sadistic part of my brain and it’s all i can think about for weeks. and it makes me want to quit. either writing or living.

and that sounds dramatic because IT IS. and i’m fully aware having those thoughts and urges is irrational. i don’t want them. i miss feeling like i have a community on ao3 (i absolutely have one here and i love all of you in my little circle with my entire being.) i hate having to avoid reading about my favorite characters because it does that much damage to my mental health. i am afraid that it takes something that small for me to have these massive thoughts.

all of that to say is that bpd makes switches easier to flip. it makes bad choices easier to make.

the reason i’m still here. the reason i still write and i haven’t deleted everything i’ve ever done. the reason i haven’t done a number of other things that i won’t say because they aren’t really relevant. is because i have chosen not to. it is incredibly hard sometimes. but it is still a choice you have to consciously make. you have to consciously decide to hurt someone. you have to consciously decide to say things. you have to consciously decide to humiliate your best friend in front of countless other people.

regina did make those choices.

and for that she does deserve consequences. she deserves repercussions and she deserves flack. she does not deserve to get hit by a bus (except for it being the catalyst to help her realize she needs to change) or being force fed to reach her biggest insecurity and fear without her knowledge.

she made the earliest choice when she was either eleven or twelve years old, that we know of.

that is a child.

regina is a child who is clearly suffering in some way we don’t see. she absolutely should be held accountable for what she does and what she has done. but she also deserves to be allowed to apologize and try to make amends. she deserves to be allowed the opportunity for growth and to heal and to become a functional adult who is capable of meaningful relationships and success. she deserves to be allowed to try.

does she deserve immediate or any forgiveness? no. the people around her also deserve the ability to make the choices with her that they will. she has caused harm, people are allowed to process the harm she has put upon them however they will.

but she deserves the opportunity to make it a choice for them.

she deserves a chance at redemption.

[nikethestatue]

The way I would drop SJM if gwynriel happens. I wont hate on her or anything. I will keep reading her book if elucien happens depending on how elain character is develop. We all due respect Gwyn is a lovely character in my opinion but the fact that all those elriel hints were just to mislead us just so gwynriel could happen makes me kinda sick. I love elriel a lot but honestly at this point i am not 100% sure that elriel will happen the whole glow in the chest thing is really tricky especially if it was use in the bryce/hunt bc on HOFAS. I will still support my ship but I won’t go to hard on it cause honestly I just don’t want to get disappointed. Something that this new release has show us is that one thing is what we want and another is what she as the writer wants🤷🏼‍♀️very few theories have come true and I just think at the end of the day we really know nothing about what’s going on in Sarah s head

Same. Definitely same.

But Gwynriel won't happen. There was a n interview/Live that SJM did at the height of Gwynriel mania in 2021. She was kind of prodded and pushed to answer a Gwynriel question which she didnt but she DID say that not every interaction should be interpreted as 'romantic'. She was clear about that--that even if a reader wants to read it as such, they aren't. Obviously, it was in response to the question about Gwynriel. She didn't outright negate it, but she dropped a pretty heavy hint.

That, clearly, cannot apply to Elriel, since SJM herself wrote a very romantic interlude between the two of them. Theirs ARE romantic gestures and interactions and should be taken as such.

Gwynriel was never coded as romantic. Everything about it--and I've said it always--is mentor/mentee conded, with vague overlay of barely there friendship. Gwyn wants to impress Azriel with her achievements. Azriel challenges her and the others and wants them to push harder. That's it. Nothing about their interactions is even vaguely romantic, not even flirtatious. Also, we KNOW from Azriel's own POV that the entire time he was involved in training of the priestesses, including Gwyn, he was completely CONSUMED by Elain.

No one seems to address that. The timelines are concurrent. Gwyn is cutting the ribbon, Azriel watches her attempts, he trains the priestesses, he does whatever he does with all of that--all the while, he only thinks of Elain. He doesn't look at Gwyn's cut ribbon on his nightstand. He looks at the headache powder. He doesn't avoid training, because he can't be near Gwyn since he wants her so much. He avoids dinners and meetings at the River House, because he wants Elain so much.

Has anything changed after we got the Solstice POV? No. We learn from another SJM interview that Az and Rhys tried to borderline kill each other, because Az was so angry with him. We know that after things sparked in his chest, the next day, he was even more aloof than usual during training and barely spoke to Nesta. Has anything changed, narratively, in his approach to Gwyn after Solstice? Nope. Still the same.

I know it's hard to not hear all the noise and the mad confidence of some readers, but Gwynriel won't be happening. It's not me saying that. It's SJM.

[frownyalfred]

i gotta ask because I keep doing this to myself [and i am not procrastinating i swear] but how often do you write yourself into a corner?

I don't mean like into a plot hole but like you write and write and then like you realize what you wrote doesn't fit the tone of the scene or its irrelevant or its a plot point that came up too soon or the characters are taking the story in a direction that doesn't serve the plot?

Do you just delete it? do you save it as a snippet idea somewhere?

I am deep in the delete it and occasionally save a snippet if its not trash era myself

Oof, yeah it definitely happens sometimes. I absolutely hate it. It ruins my mood for several days and I have to go walk it off when I realize what's happened.

I think the sooner you realize you're veering off course, the easier it is to salvage. I usually delete and start over, but I've started doing a mini post-mortem on why it isn't working -- that's essential so you don't do the same thing all over again.

Usually big parts of that chunk are salvageable, especially dialogue! Or they're useful elsewhere and just not in that spot in particular. Sometimes I save stuff for a future chapter or I add it into a little elseworld fic (see my ASOH spin offs) so it's not wasted.

A good example of this for me was the ending to borderline. I wrote a whole sideplot about Gotham, Bruce, and Damian that didn't really end up serving the main plot and actually negated the conclusion of the fic. But I really liked what I'd written, so that was a tough moment. However, a lot of those lines ended up being repurposed in the dialogue for Gotham later on in that same chapter, so I didn't feel totally foolish.

But yeah, big take away is -- it happens, I've done it, and usually your brain is trying to help you! Don't throw it all away unless you really have to. Utilize those pieces or lines or ideas elsewhere. Use them as unreleased backstory in your notes. Chuck them into a sequel once the plot is wrapped up. Etc.

[ludiharambasha]

Stolas is a victim of spousal abuse. That does NOT negate the fact that he is classist, racist, manipulative and abusive towards Blitz. Those are two different relationships. Being a victim in one relationship does not necessarily translate to being a victim in ALL other relationships in one's life. While I personally hate the goddamn owl, that is the most compelling aspect of his character, and had it not been for Viv's incessant need to excuse his every action and flip the switch on the borderline evil things he does, he would have been able to carry the semblance of theme on the same level as Blitz.

(This analysis will mostly focus on s1) Because, in a very important sense, this show is about hierarchy and power (there are other themes present, such as family, but I am not going to focus on them in this post).

Blitz is both a victim and an abuser in different relationships. He is an abusive stalker and an asshole to many people in his life, but not in the relationship central to the show - Stolas. His whole character, as I argued in an earlier post, is an amalgamation of ambivalent and sometimes contradictory social roles - he is one of the lowest (ratialized) classes, but he is also a boss and a father to someone from an even lower class (he has capitalistic, patriarchal power over Moxie, Millie and Luna); he owns a business, but his business is predicated on a rich man allowing him to continue with said business. He is constantly juggling these ambivalent statuses and roles. There are other relationships important for Blitz's character (his mother, sister, Fizz) which are antagonistic in some way, or do not exist any longer (let us ignore for a second the fact that Blitz's and Fizz's relationship is on the mend, as this will unnecessarily complicate this analysis), and it is this fact that is the main internal struggle of Blitz as a character - he consistently fails in the relationships that matter to him. Despite gaining some semblance of social power, he has no emotional power and influence over the people he is equal in power to or has power over - Millie and Moxie barely tolerate him because he is their boss, but his constant meddling and stalking is greatly unwelcome; Loona has a very strained relationship with him and is not as receptive to Blitz as he would like her to be; his sister actively avoids him, and so does (s1) Fizz. Blitz's social climbing cannot bring him what truly matters to him (and this further legitimizes his belief that he is unlovable). Him being an asshole to them is a reflection of a deeper powerlessness from within - the feeling that these people do not, and could not love and care for him. This internal conflict is the impetus of s1, and a similar emotional conflict is shifted onto Stolas in the next season.

Now, the relationship between Stolas and Blitz functions similarly, but on a different level, and with roles reversed. Blitz is the one who lacks institutional power in his relationship with Stolas, but is the one that holds emotional power and dominance in the relationship, by the fact that he does not love Stolas. Stolas is the one who has institutional power in most of his relationships (as a royal, employer, father), but is constrained by Goetia rules and abused by his wife. In the sense of sheer, material power, he has all the power over Blitz, and is his abuser. But in an emotional sense, he is the one without power, as no matter how much Stolas "loves" Blitz and has an unhealthy romantic sexual obsession with the man, Blitz simply does not return these feelings (at least up until halfway through season 2, Blitz simply does not give a shit). Holding the book over Blitz's head cannot make Blitz love him (and it is actively a hindrance to him returning his feelings). No matter what Stolas flings at Blitz, it cannot buy his love and affection. Blitz and Stolas are foils in this sense.

Stolas' reaction in the last two episodes, despite the fact that Vivienne is trying to make Stolas sympathetic and to brush off his absolutely vile and deplorable behavior, is what makes his character shine. Had it not been for the audience's and the author's absolute dedication to the mediocrity of redemtion and "mending one's relationships," and the obsession with characters being likeable, Stolas could have easily been the most compelling character on the show. He is manipulative, entitled, hypocritical, never shies from holding everything he ever does over peoples' heads, lacks self-reflection, is absolutely and unabashedly self-absorbed. All of this creates narrative tension - had Stolas been different, our story would have been over soon. A normal person would make peace with the fact that someone they love does not return their feelings. However, ficiton is not about normal people doing normal things; and Stolas' manipulation and abuse tactics are genuinely what makes him compelling. Stolas gives Blitz the chance to be free of him along with the choice to either accept or reject his love. When Blitz makes his choice, one Stolas does not like, he gets furious and vindictive. Blitz does not owe him love, and this fact enrages Stola.

Now, to the crux of the initial argument, why cannot people compartmentalize and understand that people's roles and statuses are not necessarily set in stone and that they can function differently from relationship to relationship? Being an abuser in one relationship does not make that person an abuser in every other social interaction, and vice versa. If people can realize that Blitz is an ass to Millie and Moxie, why is it hard to understand that Stolas is an absolute ass towards Blitz? Being a survivor of spousal abuse does not mean that you are categorically exempt from all and any judgement. Stolas is Blitz's abuser, and Stolas being a victim of domestic abuse cannot erase that fact. Stolas needn't be a perfect victim, and his skewered view on what love is something that is very much influenced by his depression caused by abuse. However, that does not mean that he is not an abuser himself in a different relationship.

And this brings me to something fascinating. This ambivalence is what makes Stolas even remotely interesting; why would one want to make him out to be a saint (which is silly given the fact that we are introduced to him in a scene in which he uses the fact that Blitz is in mortal danger in order to pressure him into a sexual relationship without which Blitz cannot keep his business (something that endangers Loona, Millie and Moxie as well)) and excuse every bad thing he does when that significantly weakens his characterization? Why is a character being palatable and likeable more important to you than them being interesting and well-written? Not every character needs for them to be your perfect little blorbo who can do no wrong. This singlehandedly butchered Stolas as a character.

[menalez]

I’ve seen Zionists say that the claims of Gaza having been an open air prison is pretty flimsy because it had malls, schools and restaurants etc etc…i mean I guess it makes little difference after Israel has destroyed the majority of it (which the Zionists conveniently seem to forget ) but all the same was it a literal open air prison if it had all these things? I mean some pro Palestinian people make it sound like it was a borderline concentration camp which i don’t think it was exactly. So was it an open air prison in the sense that they couldn’t leave and were systematically oppressed and often killed, but not so much in the sense that they didn’t have schools, stores and many of the other things we would consider normal in our society (because it does seem like they did have those things, at least to some extent)? Again I know this doesn’t negate Israel’s oppression or killing either way, which is obviously where the Zionist argument on this falls apart

most palestinians in gaza were (& are) refugees. most could not afford the restaurants or the stores. the unemployment rate in gaza was sth insane like 50% or so. palestinians in gaza lacked access to water, lacked freedom of movement, lacked basic resources, are forbidden from even building seaports, forbidden from having an airport, goods are heavily restricted by israel meaning israel controls what exits and enters gaza, and more. israel is the occupying power meaning it has ultimate control over gaza. you could research and quickly get an answer why it was dubbed by human rights organisations as an open-air prison.

consider all of these facts and then try to argue to me that the mere presence of restaurants and malls (which a significant portion of palestinians in gaza can’t even afford or enjoy) somehow means the term is not applicable.

[altocat]

What's the nicest thing Genesis has ever done for anyone?

One particularly harsh winter, Angeal's family was in something of a huge financial rut. Food was scarce, work was harder to come by. Gillian herself felt pressed to go to Hollander for help, if only for Angeal's sake, pride be damned.

Seeing his friend in borderline starved conditions, Genesis immediately sprung into action. He'd raided his family's pantry in the past for Angeal, but this was to be an incredible heist on his part, a night-long affair of silent skulking from Point A to B to get Angeal and his family as much food as possible. His parents awoke the next day to the pantry nearly completely barren, with a very groggy Genesis suggesting that perhaps a neighboring snob family next door raided them overnight. After all, the Nidelmens have been jealous of the secret Rhapsodos apple juice formula for ages! Goddess only knows how they must feel about their cheeses!

Angeal and his family stuff themselves and never question where the food came from. Genesis effectively saves Christmas. All is right with the world.

.....this is immediately negated years later when, as a joke, Genesis and Sephiroth decide to raid Angeal's pre-holiday dinner supply. But Angeal honestly finds this amusing and can't and vengefully just serves everyone grilled cheese sandwiches on Christmas Eve instead.

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapters 7 & 8 (Part 1)

Yosano and Kyouka: The Agency’s Women

[Masterpost]

I will be covering chapter 7 and 8 different from how I usually do these analyses, focusing on certain characters rather than the linear narrative. These two chapters revolve around the introduction of Yosano and Kyouka into the story, so I will focus on them for this post and make another ch. 7 & 8 post regarding other aspects of the chapters. 

So, let’s talk about Yosano!

This is her introductory chapter, spotlighting her personality and eventually her ability. One of my favorite moments by far is when she’s apologizing on Atsushi’s behalf for bumping into a rude, wealthy and entitled man who then kicks her in the face and she replies by threatening to stomp on his dick.

Later in the chapter, after Motojiro Kajii begins the bomb threat on the train, the same man begs for Yosano to save him after realizing she’s with the agency, perhaps hinting to the reader that he’s now had a change of heart… but then asks her to step on his dick. Appropriately, she drop-kicks the pervert. 

This highlights the absurdity of sexism and classism in modern society, the man flaunting his wealth earlier and insulting Yosano for being a woman, and is still unable to get over his bigoted ideology when his literal life is in danger. One would like to think that a woman being part of a powerful detective agency would earn the man’s respect, but in reality, this is not quite so true. He just wants to reap the advantages of having Yosano on his side by offering to pay her, but still objectifies her in the end. It’s a nuanced criticism that doesn’t magically solve sexism/classism by Yosano simply existing as a badass woman. 

This continues with Kajii’s interaction with Yosano, where he remarks that “women are so tough nowadays,” implying that it’s not in women’s nature to be strong. His sexist assumptions already put him at a disadvantage, because although he acknowledges Yosano’s strength, he still thinks himself more powerful and her stupid for trying to defy him.

In chapter 8, he calls her a “girl” and questions her intelligence, to which Yosano retaliates, calling Kajii "an idiot."

She’s goading him into injuring her here, knowing that her own ability will only work if she is on the brink of death, and it works. He drops a load of bombs on her, ignorantly assuming that there’s no chance of her survival. When he checks on her again, she uses this to her advantage, attacking him and effectively putting him in his place. 

Earlier, he had basically tried to mansplain death to her, not knowing who she was or what her background is, so she reveals her status as a doctor and explains her ability and understanding of death, threatening him.

After this, she half-kills Kajji and uses her ability on him enough times that she gets the information she needs and is able to speak to Atsushi over the intercom, allowing him to take charge of the situation. 

In summary, this chapter introduces Yosano as someone consistently overlooked because she is a woman, but she proves that she is capable and intelligent, which is not negated by the fact that she is also revealed to be borderline sadistic. It paints a nuanced portrait of a female character that will be further explored with her backstory much later in the manga. 

Now, let’s shift focus to Kyouka. 

Kyouka is silently present throughout chapter 7: capturing Dazai at the beginning and bumping into Atsushi at the train station. We know she is a threat, likely affiliated with the Port Mafia, but she is kept mysterious until the conclusion of chapter 7, using her appearance as a young, quiet girl as a cover until then. Atsushi tries to warn her against going toward the bomb before she reveals Demon Snow, who is being controlled by Akutagawa at this point. 

Continuing into Chapter 8, Atushi is shown to have been pretty injured by Demon Snow, and when he asks why a young girl like her is there, she reveals her very innocent interests and fears… and the fact that she’s killed thirty-five people in the last six months. 

Pairing the seemingly normal and even sweet personality traits consistent with a young girl with the fact that she’s an assassin is jarring, those two things do not belong together, and yet, in this absurd reality, there exists and girl who likes rabbits and has caused death. It’s absurd. 

After battling with Atsushi some more, she reveals that the bomb is strapped to her chest, reiterating her body count. Atsushi implores her to “express herself,” telling her that there’s more to life, imploring that they stop. Yosano then interrupts and Kyouka hands over the switch, only for Akutagawa to reveal through the phone that there is no way to defuse the bomb and it will go off regardless. 

She then pushes Atsushi away, attempting to jump off the train, and he then realizes that the phone controls her ability, that she has no autonomy and did not want to commit the murders she did. She has no autonomy. 

But rather than be resigned to her fate and allow herself and everyone on the train to die, Atsushi’s words seem to have affected her, and she decides to sacrifice only herself, jumping off the moving train.

While I cannot label this action as explicitly absurd (she believed she was dying either way and had completely lost hope), the fact that she’s rebelling against what Akutagawa wanted her to do, something she was unable to do thus far, is significant. I also think it is noteworthy that her ability is being controlled by a man, rendering her mostly unable to control her own actions, her hopelessness allowing for this. This appears to be in theme with the feminist lens these chapters seem to be taking. 

But as we already know with BSD, there is no situation that is completely hopeless, and Kyouka’s intended act of sacrifice allows Atsushi to jump out after her and save her, the bomb detaching from her chest far enough from the train that nobody gets injured. 

Kyouka will be further developed in future chapters, so I’ll wrap this up here at the end of chapter 8. What I will bring up is Kyouka’s similarities to Dazai, especially in his younger years. This is by no means an original idea, as many others have brought up this point on social media, but I do think it’s worth noting considering that the two share a certain amount of nihilism, which is only perpetuated by the toxic environment of the Port Mafia. Here, we see 

Kyouka taking her first steps toward breaking from this mindset, taking direct action so that nobody else got killed, seemingly the first decision she’s made for herself since her parents’ death. In this moment, she's reclaimed her autonomy.

This post is long enough as it is, so I’ll end it here. I will be making another post soon about chapters 7 and 8, focusing on Dazai’s capture, Kajji’s ideology, and Atsushi’s actions.

[Previous] [Next]

[maxemilism]

here's one for you guys, the whole p traveling with max is so uncomfy and doesn't sit right because it comes off like kelly intentionally forces her onto him and into situations where he would be seen with her where he otherwise wouldn't, giving the public the impression she's his daughter (ie traveling alone with her and getting papped, her pictured with him and his friends alone at padel, hugging max on stream before bathtime). people constantly mistake p as max's already and it's so fucked up that he's pushed into that narrative that kelly forces upon them both. sure he loves p, but that doesn't negate the fact he is still not her father, and the constant "pretending" like he is from kelly is so gross and predatory and feels almost like borderline exploitation.

also interesting a lot of replies and people sub posting countering my opinion are doing it from burner accounts very sus 👀

[partypoisonzz]

(yeah, right) he fucking loves me (trey parker x reader nsfw alphabet)

Era: 90s

Content:

- Sub!Trey

- Recreational drug use

- Nobody asked for this as my return lol sorry please still like me anyway

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

Hope you enjoy.

- Pen

-

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He gets cuddly, but in a borderline stupid way. He's clingy as fuck, so you're going to be stuck in bed for a while with his face buried in your neck and his arm wrapped around your waist. Even cuter, he gets absolutely giddy, giggling and referring to you by pet names that would totally negate his edgy satirist image if anyone ever heard him. You take the opportunity to play with his hair and dote on him for a bit, knowing that that's not a luxury that you often get without a lighthearted argument or joke being thrown in. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his own is probably his hair. He's pretty damn vain about it and experiments more than is most likely healthy, especially where bleach is involved. However, he does allow you your own input and the opportunity to assist, which results in his impulsive makeovers being a little less disastrous, — and he let you put pink streaks in it that one time. That was cute.

As for you, he loves your chest. Though this isn't without its perverted reasoning, there's something sweet about the way that he buries his face there when you tease him, as well as how he falls asleep with his head over your heart. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

You had to beg him to come inside of you for months before he finally felt secure enough to do it. You'll never forget the way that he grabbed your hips and held you down the first time, whimpering as you told him what a good boy he was for filling you up. 

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He bottoms at least once a week, without failure. He's so particular about being in control all the time, so tightly wound. He trusts you to take the reigns when it's time for him to relinquish his grip. In his opinion, there's no better type of break than when you fuck him stupid.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows a good bit, but you've taught him most of it. Luckily for you, he's an eager learner. He doesn't just want to do what's worked before on his past partners, — he wants to please you . He's always happy to take your pointers, and he always makes good on them. 

F = Favorite position 

Either missionary or when you ride him. As basic as it all is, he just wants to get to look at you, no matter if you're above or below him. He likes to watch your face, and remember that this isn't just some random fling, — it's you, and he loves you more than anything. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?)

You already know that he's absolutely ridiculous. He's hardly ever serious unless something's wrong. He frequently cracks (often objectively terrible) jokes mid-deed. You don't mind. You appreciate how he's always, — yes, always, — able to make you laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

You know that this man doesn't shave... Unless you ask him to. Then he would do it in a heartbeat, no questions, because, if you haven't gathered by now, you have him totally fucking whipped.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's so much sweeter than anyone would ever suspect. His entire brand may be playing the part of a massive jerk, but he's just so tender with you. Even when he's greedy, gripping and clawing at you, he's telling you through broken moans how much he loves you. Plus he can never seem to keep his mouth off you, kissing wherever he can while he's buried deep inside of you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's obsessed with phone sex, mostly so you can tell him when he can and can't come, even when you're not physically together. It's so much better when your voice is there to spur him on, and he knows he won't be able to deny himself like you deny him. He loves that you make him stop and wait, as well as the way that you assure him that he's so good, just for you. Hearing you get hot and bothered from listening to him jerk off is also a turn on. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a massive praise kink. Nothing makes him weaker than hearing you call him your good boy. He loves the way that you spoil him, indulging him in ways that he's too shy to ask for. It's both hot and reassuring to hear that he's good for you, but hearing that he's yours does it for him on an entirely different level. 

He loves when you're possessive of him. He likes it when you mark him up for this reason. He doesn't care if you leave behind hickeys or scratches, and frankly makes absolutely no effort to cover them when you do. He wants everyone to know that he belongs to you. Hell, you've joked that you could put a collar on him and he wouldn't mind. The fact that he turned bright red rather than arguing told you everything that you needed to know. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Whenever and wherever you can. The bedroom, the shower, the couch, locked rooms at work when Matt leaves to go get food, the backseat of his car. He's a red-blooded young man, and your living situation has not necessarily leant itself well to privacy over the course of your relationship. If you've got a free minute and getting caught is not a certain possibility, he's game. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To reiterate: he's a guy in his twenties, and he's totally fucking in love with you. Sometimes all you have to do is look at him and he's begging you to find somewhere for the two of you to sneak off to. 

He likes when you play with him a bit, deliberately teasing him before telling him that you shouldn't do anything right now. He would happily let you get him riled up over the course of an entire day, reducing him to nothing but a begging mess by the time you finally give him what he wants. He's your plaything, and he fucking loves it.  

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's kinky, but some more extreme things freak him the fuck out. He wants you to take control of him, not put him in a position that could fucking kill him if either of you made a wrong move. That being said, weapons are off the table, and choking is a hard maybe.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Well, obviously he likes receiving, because what guy doesn't love a good blowjob? He loves the way that you dig your fingernails into his thighs and look up at him while bobbing your head up and down. It takes everything in him not to come on the spot, of course, but if you've taught him anything that he thought he might never learn, it has definitely been restraint. 

But when it comes to giving, you absolutely have him trained. He does exactly what you like, and he's naturally good at it. He loves when you pull his hair and push his face further between your thighs. Going down on you is his main way of serving you. He would absolutely do it all day if he could. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's fast, but not really rough, — not intentionally, at least. He's just impatient to a fault, which is something that you're trying to break him from. You frequently remind him to slow down and enjoy the moment. When that doesn't work, you edge him until he's reduced to a whimpering mess. Though you love the challenge that comes along with testing his obedience, you take satisfaction in the fact that he's so needy for you and let him go as fast as he wants on occasion. You're always pleasantly surprised when he accidentally gets rough with you. Knowing that he needs you that bad makes you come hard, which he most definitely appreciates. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

For better or for worse, quickies are a regular thing for the two of you. You've grown accustomed to getting each other off quickly at any opportunity. He's certainly not complaining about it, — if anything, it's made him all the more skilled at making you come, — but the times when you can actually enjoy yourselves without worrying about time constraints or somebody walking in are certainly a treat.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He has never experimented as much as he has since he's been with you. For the most part, he is at your mercy, letting you do whatever with him with only a few hard limits. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has stamina in spades. It all comes down to how needy he is. It doesn't take much for you to get him hard again after he comes, and he's happy to go down on you between rounds. You've been known to make entire afternoons of your escapades, with him either letting you edge him or get him off again and again. Either way, there have been times where you haven't stopped until he got lightheaded and you had to go get him water and lovingly chastise him about stopping while he's ahead. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are another thing that he didn't have any experience with before he met you. Now that he has quote-unquote "incidentally" discovered how much he likes, — ahem, taking it, — you've taken him shopping once or twice. You joke about how new and inexperienced he is while either making him fuck himself in front of you or listening over the phone. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease you just for the purpose of being a brat. When it actually comes down to the act, he'll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Still, he's certainly not above playing with you just so you'll turn it around on him and make him fucking cry later on. He's a glutton for punishment, though he'll never verbally admit as much. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's so fucking loud. Embarrassingly so, even. He goes the whole nine yards, — moans, whimpers, begs, cries for you. Though he always starts out attempting to keep himself under control, that never lasts. By the end of it, his face is always either buried against your skin or in a pillow, and Matt is usually loudly bitching on the other side of the wall, telling him that if he can't quiet the fuck down, he can at least "not sound like a fucking girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

He can't smoke weed, so you make pot brownies for the two of you whenever you have a weekend to kill together. He barely has any tolerance, so he gets baked out of his mind. Conveniently, when he's high, he can't keep his hands off of you, and everything feels much more intense for the both of you. All of the stoned, giggly sex that ensues makes you fairly certain that your culinary endeavors are beneficial. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a big, tall guy, and the rest of him is proportional to your expectations. (He just about died when you told him he was the biggest you ever had the first time that you slept together.)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Stupidly high. You like to inform all your friends that he "fucks like the Energizer Bunny." Unless he's sick or super depressed, he'd probably be o-kay with you climbing on top of him and taking what's rightfully yours. The two of you just never seem to get enough of each other. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If there's nothing else that needs immediate attention, he stays awake just long enough to clean up, curl up against you, and sleepily mumble a series of far-too-sweet sentiments while you rub his back. After that, he's out cold and still holding onto you in his sleep. 

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck Week 2024

Day 1 - Favorite Negator: Gina Chamber

After much deliberation, I finally landed on Gina as my favorite member of the UU cast

If I had to put a fine point on it, I'd say that it's because I love love. Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone so in love that it turns them silly, and to me, nobody in UU is as silly as Gina

Sure, the entire cast is made of goofballs, and Feng has the biggest gap between his usual serious self and how silly-in-love he obviously is with Fuuko, but Gina's entire character is based on her overflowing, borderline obsessive, unchanging love for the people in her life

The lengths that L100 Gina went to stay the same as the day she met Andy while every other iteration of her allowed themselves to age normally suggest that she either A) wanted him to recognize her when they met again, or B) wanted to be like him, remaining static through the ages, either because she admired his ability to resist change or because she thought it would make him feel less alone to have someone like him in the world. I don't believe it was ever stated anywhere (and if it was I missed it), but I'd like to believe that on some level it was the latter

L101 Gina may not be actively inhibiting her aging process, but Gina is just as desperate to be around Fuuko, such as when she snuck aboard the space shuttle despite being wounded during the Buroja Conflict. She will give everything of herself for Fuuko's sake, and Fuuko's happiness is her happiness

It's appropriate that L100 Gina, who wished to die to escape the weight of her guilt, fell in love with a man who wished to die to escape the weight of his loneliness, while L101 Gina, who wishes to hold onto her happiness, fell in love with a woman who fights so everyone can hold onto their happiness. Her love for Andy was a reflection of her mentality at the time, while her love for Fuuko is the source of her current mentality

Her love and the state of her character are inextricably linked, and the interaction between the two serves as the best example of UU's unique brand of "reverse character development," showing the cast as their ideal and fully realized selves after their tragedies are negated

This is especially fitting as Gina was the first of the Union to be saved, so of course she's the one with the most drastic and persistent change in her perspective

The first major opponent in part 1, the first major ally in part 2, Gina is one of the closest cast members to being one of the main characters, possibly only surpassed by Rip. With such a strong influence on the narrative and vice versa, it's no wonder Gina won me over

[borderline-culture-is]

BPD culture is not actually having an FP and knowing that even though while it’s a common experience it’s not a universal one and doesn’t negate you being borderline, feeling isolated anyway

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